Last Hallowed Scar
by Ephemeralen
Summary: Forever After Earth sidestory. When her hateful relatives finally throw her out on the street, Harriet Potter discovers family ties to a powerful coven of benevolent witches. But the coven has an enemy. A warlock who will do anything to avert a prophecy, even kill an innocent girl.
1. Harriet Potter and the Seed of Wonder(1)

( **Joss Whedon** is boss. All Harry Potters lead to **JK Rowling**.)

(Okay, I know. I know. Here I am writing more _Forever After Earth_ when I'm supposed to be working on _Solace_. I _am_ still working on _Solace_ , it's just I keep finding myself going back to do more groundwork and sidework and artwork and whatnot. Which means more the editing of old chapters than the writing of new ones.

That aside, yep, here I am writing Harriet Potter's sidestory after all. This takes place before _Forever After Earth_ , so you do not need to have read that first, but this is only technically a prequel and the setting will make more sense if you have already read _Forever After Earth_ and _It Means Flame_.)

( **Warning:** This is rated T for Teen because the narrative will be no more explicit than is befitting the teenage PoV it is told from. It is not so rated because nothing exciting or horrible happens 'on screen'. Viewer discretion is advised.)

* * *

 **Harriet Potter and the Seed of Wonder  
** **(Part 1)**

It was, perhaps, not the best idea she'd ever had.

Dudley and his friends, Piers and Malcom, were all bigger than her, being boys, and well fed. The lot of them had never hesitated to take advantage of their superior stature when the idea clambered its way into their thick heads that the freak girl wasn't nearly miserable enough. It didn't matter to them that she was a girl. It didn't matter to Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia, so long as the neighbors didn't see.

Harriet knew this, so she knew she was taking her life into her own hands. She crept up behind the group, along the side of the house, and ducked behind the trash bins. Thick spikes of unruly black hair fell into her eyes, escaping her braid, and she dragged it out of her face with a sweaty hand.

The three of them sat in lawn chairs, just inside the gate, passing a blunt around in the shadow of the house. Harriet spotted her schoolbag, thankfully intact, under Dudley's chair.

Her cousin and his gang had taken it from her and pushed her into a ditch on her way home from school, presumably because she'd gotten a better report card from Stonewall High than Dudley'd gotten from Smeltings, this term. Or at least that was as much as she could reckon from their ape-like hooting and grunting when they'd taken it. Aunt Petunia had put her to work in the garden as soon as Harriet had made it home, and she knew better than to 'tattle' on Dudley, so this was her first opportunity to get it back.

Crouching on all fours, Harriet peeked out again. Good, none of them were looking. She focused on her bag, and willed it to move. Slowly, she felt the clarity come over her mind, the mass of the object, its natural state, how if the energy deviated from its current equilibrium _just so_... The bag began to slide backwards towards the wall, but it caught on something. Damn. The strap was caught under Dudley's chair.

Harriet needed a distraction.

After a moment, her attention fell on the blunt, and she smirked. This was harder. It didn't come as easily as making things move did, but she could do it. The smoldering tip, the heat making things combine and separate, combustion changing something into something else. Even simple things were complicated when she made unnatural things happen. Then she had it. Extra oxygen forced its way into the reaction and...

"Aagh!" Piers yelped as the blunt flash-burned in his face all at once and set his eyebrows on fire. He flinched back, slapping at his face as his chair fell over.

"Whoa!"

"Sodding hell!"

Dudley jumped up, but just hopped in place flapping his hands uselessly. Malcom didn't even get up, and just stared dumbly. Piers finally sat up, glowering.

"Thanks for the help, you pillocks!" Piers bit out sarcastically.

Harriet stretched out a hand. It wasn't necessary, but it helped her concentrate. Her schoolbag slid out from under Dudley's chair and flew through the air towards her outstretched fingers. It clipped the trash bins.

Harriet winced at the loud crash as she caught her bag. The boys jumped in fright, but their eyes soon fell on her.

"Oy! It's the freak," Piers exclaimed.

"We gonna get you good for that," Dudley threatened. "Malcom! Sic'her!"

Malcom dove at her, but she scampered back. Harriet turned to run, clutching her bag, but she wasn't finished yet. Harriet could outrun them easy. She could outrun anyone, she figured. She was very fast, and she could do unnatural things. Things like run up the side of the house and leap over the fence into the neighbors yard, like the people in those kung fu movies.

Harriet was not expecting the lawn chair, thrown by Dudley, that crashed into her mid-leap, braining her in the back of the head. She fell to the grass in a heap, inches from smashing her face into the wooden fence.

She scrambled to pick herself up, but a body collided with her and knocked her down again. Rolling, she tried to kick Malcom off but her legs were trapped between his, and she couldn't even get a good angle to knee him in the boy-bits. He sat on her, holding her down. He was heavy, nearly twice her weight, and stank of marijuana.

Harriet tried to pull her arms free until her muscles twinged in pain, but she hadn't really expected that to work anyway. She settled for glowering up at him.

"Good show, Malcom!" Dudley called, picking up Harriet's schoolbag. "Looks like the freak wanted her bag back."

"Taking it before we're done with it," Piers added mockingly. "Should have asked nicely, she should have."

"Quite right, mate," Dudley agreed. "The freak think's she can pull one over on us. We gonna stand for that?"

"No sodding way," Piers said gleefully. "Oy, get her up, then."

Harriet expected they were planning to dump her headfirst into one of those trash bins she'd knocked over, have a good laugh, and be on their way. It wouldn't be the first time. She was not expecting Malcom's eyes to settle on her chest, blink in confusion, and then widen in glee.

"Oy look at this!" Malcom said, sounding flummoxed. "The freak's got tits!"

Thrown by the nonsequitur, Harriet looked down. She'd been doing her garden work in a old too-large pair of threadbare jeans and a raggedy white t-shirt that only managed to be decent by being so baggy. Only now, having worked up a sweat and then been thrown onto her back, the worn cotton was clinging to her chest and hiding nothing.

"What? Since when?" Piers blurted. "Well look at that!"

Harriet stared, caught completely off guard. Of all the ways for someone to finally notice she was a girl, she couldn't think of one she'd prefer less. She'd been so proud of her blossoming bosom, checking herself out in the mirror every morning and night, but now leers were stealing their way onto Malcom's and Piers' faces.

 _Oh bloody hell,_ Harriet thought, dismayed, _they're gonna ruin this for me, too._

"Wonder what freak-titties feel like," Malcom durr'd. His hand released one of hers and grabbed clumsily at one of her handfuls.

"N!" Harriet bit off her cry of pain and protest. She knew it wouldn't do any good. But Malcom, thoughtful boy that he was, had forgotten that she had an arm free. And she was angry. Having a laugh at her expense was one thing. Getting off at her expense was another.

Harriet clawed at Malcom's face. He flinched back, and she tried to throw him off, but even off balance, he was too heavy, and his weight came down on her knees.

"Niigh!" Harriet hissed, feeling the joints bend just far enough the wrong way to hurt.

"Watch it," Piers scolded, catching Harriet's free arm and kneeling on it. "Oy, Big D."

Dudley shook his head. "Like I'd wanna feel up my freak cousin. You best be careful she doesn't get her devilry on you."

Piers laughed at what he thought was joke, taking his turn groping her. His hand went under her baggy shirt, shoving it up passed her breasts. "Mate, we should bloody well take her pants off too. I'll hold her arms."

Harriet gritted her teeth and wrenched her arms, but she couldn't get free. It probably said something about her life that screaming for help didn't even occur to her.

Malcom sat on her legs again as he unbuckled her belt. The jeans were loose, and they came down to her thighs with a single tug. Piers leered at her too-small knickers.

"Nnnnrh! Get off me!" Harriet cried, thrashing her legs.

"Oy! Shut it, freak!" Piers demanded, painfully grinding his knees into her arms.

Piers reached down and rubbed her through her knickers. He was rough, but not rough enough to _hurt_ really. Instead, her body clenched up as a prickly chill twisted in her guts. It felt horrible, the way her body tried to have two opposing reactions at once, like it knew this was supposed to feel good and didn't know how to reconcile it being awful.

"Let! Go!" Harriet raged. Tears blurred her sight as she struggled. She bucked with all her might, willing it to be enough.

The ground dropped out from beneath her. Piers and Malcom screamed, in that primal reaction to an unexpected fall. Harriet was more used to a lesser version of the feeling, but it startled her too. The ground came rushing back up and slammed into Harriet's back. And two much heavier boys came crashing down on top of her.

Air rushed out of Harriet's lungs, but in the fall Piers had hit his head on the fence, and Malcom had landed on his back. Harriet pulled her legs free of the jeans and tried to scramble back, but she couldn't breathe.

"What the bloody hell happened?" Malcom wondered. "Forehead was glowing..."

"Fu... fuck she do?" Piers managed, clutching his head. "Get her!"

Harriet collapsed and curled onto her side, still struggling to take in a breath. Piers crawled towards her. He grabbed her ankle and yanked her over the grass.

His head snapped into focus. Harriet kicked him in the face. Piers collapsed, clutching his mouth.

Forcing a breath into her chest, Harriet scrambled to her feet and stumbled away. Malcom wheezed almost as badly as he finally started getting up. And behind them, Dudley clutched her bag as a triumphant smirk appeared on his face.

"Oh! Oh! Just wait'll I tell mum you were showin' yer knickers to the boys! I bet you don't get dinner for a month!" Dudley crowed.

Harriet didn't have the breath to reply, but she knew Dudley was probably right. Piers and Malcom were recovering fast, and looked about to make a second go at her. She readied herself to dodge the next lunge.

Her mind was racing. This wasn't like before. Even if she outran them today, things wouldn't go back to normal. Their 'Harri Hunting' was always going to be about this, now. Even if they didn't get her this time, they would be after her body from now on. It didn't matter how many times she got away. They would be waiting when she came back.

If she came back.

Harriet had thought about running away from the Dursleys, many times, but she hadn't, because she knew horrible things happened to teenage girls living on the streets. But... would sleeping outside be that much worse than sleeping in her cramped cupboard? Would stealing food and sometimes going hungry be worse than the scraps she claimed from her school cafeteria?

Harriet didn't know. She didn't know. The life she had was the only one she knew. And nothing, _nothing_ of Harriet's was sacred. She'd learned that well and good, by now. It was foolish to hope, to hope she might have kept even this aspect of her life unsullied by her tormentors.

And... and maybe it wouldn't be as bad if she just... got it over with. If... if she didn't fight it.

"Oy," Harriet grunted, lowering her eyes. She still had a little trouble breathing. "You don't tell, and gimme my bag, I won't kick your face again."

Malcom laughed at Piers, but the other boy scowled, then caught her across the face with a lightning quick jab. "How about you gimme your knickers and then you get to keep your teeth! Malcom, get'er!"

Dazed from the blow, Harriet saw Malcom rushing at her. Running away was her first instinct, but she'd already figured that wouldn't work anymore, and that was as far as she got before Malcom collided with her. His big, hard, heavy, _warm_ body trapped her against the ground.

Piers reappeared and helped pin her down. He didn't hit her again, so Harriet didn't struggle. She just closed her eyes and cried while she let them have their way.

The parts that hurt weren't as bad as she expected. It was the parts that didn't that she regretted.

* * *

Hot water beat down on Harriet's shoulders and dragged down on her bowed head with the weight of her voluminous mass of soaked hair. The water ran clear, her skin cleansed of the physical signs of what she'd allowed to happen to her, and Harriet didn't know what to do next.

It seemed almost abhorrent, to simply carry on like everything was still the same. She'd been cheated out of her virginity, and no one cared. No one _would_ care. And she didn't even have the comfort of knowing it was over. It wasn't over. No one would punish Piers or Malcom for anything they did to her, and they knew that. Unless she was willing to do something extreme, they could just... _use_ her, whenever they wanted.

Harriet clutched at her belly, shuddering at the knot of hot tension sitting in her gut. She'd never admit that _anything_ they did to her felt _good_ , but parts of it _had_ been... stimulating.

It wouldn't have been _better_ , Harriet reckoned, if it had just hurt and nothing else. But it would've been... simpler. Pain was easy. Harriet knew how to deal with pain. She _didn't_ know how to deal with this mess of conflicting urges. She didn't know how to deal with the insistent throbbing between her legs when the idea of touching herself and ending what _they_ started with a satisfying climax - it made her sick.

That was the worst part, Harriet thought. They'd taken something good, one of the so very few good things about being alive, and tainted it.

Harriet lifted her face into the shower stream. The water beat down on her face and erased the hot tears of helpless misery that squeezed out of her closed eyes.

The bathroom door suddenly slammed violently open.

Harriet flinched hard, slipping and falling into the bottom of the tub.

"Get out here now you filthy cunt!" Aunt Petunia shrieked as she stomped into the bathroom and ripped open the shower curtain.

Reeling, Harriet could do nothing to dodge as Aunt Petunia grabbed a fist-full of Harriet's hair and hauled her over the lip of the tub. Her shins banged painfully against the porcelain and her scalp erupted in agony as her hair felt like it was being torn out.

Harriet tried to get her feet under her, but Aunt Petunia was still dragging her. She dragged Harriet, wet and naked, out into the hallway.

"How dare you!" Aunt Petunia screeched. "Those nice boys! The neighbors _saw_ you. They saw you _fornicating_ on the very grass we raised you, you dirty little trollop! In front of my impressionable little boy! Do you have any idea, the scandal this will bring!"

Harriet clawed at the hand dragging her by the hair, but as soon as she found a grip, Aunt Petunia made it to the stairs. And kept dragging. Harriet cried out in pain as each step bruised and brutalized her unprotected flesh.

"Shut up!" Aunt Petunia screamed, throwing Harriet down in front of her cupboard. "Get dressed. Now!"

* * *

Harriet sat sullenly in the passenger seat of Aunt Petunia's SUV, nursing her bruises. Trees streamed by as they traveled down a backroad.

Harriet had asked where they were going, and Aunt Petunia had simply bit out, "London."

The bony woman was too busy muttering vitrol under her breath to say anything else. Harriet wasn't optimistic enough to expect they were going to see a doctor, to make sure she wasn't pregnant or anything, but she couldn't think of where else Aunt Petunia might be taking her, so that was her current tentative guess.

"Right," Harriet finally scoffed. " _I_ seduced _them_. That must be why they were holding me down and I was crying."

Aunt Petunia slammed on the brakes. Harriet slammed forward against her seatbelt as the car screeched to a stop.

"Get out," Aunt Petunia commanded coldly.

Harriet recovered herself and looked out the windows, but they were still in the middle of a country lane with nothing around but trees. "W-what?"

"Get. Out. Of the car."

Harriet kept looking at Aunt Petunia, waiting for some elaboration, but none came. Harriet got out of the car. As soon as she vacated the passenger seat, Aunt Petunia leaned over and opened the glovebox. She pulled something out and flung it at Harriet.

"Here," she said, with no further explanation.

Harriet stumbled back, but caught it before it fell to the ground. It was an old envelope. It smelled like it had been in a fire, but it didn't look burned.

Harriet looked up and Aunt Petunia's gaze caught hers. For a long moment, she and Harriet simply stared at each other. Then she pulled the door shut, settled back in the driver's seat, and drove off, leaving Harriet with nothing but the clothes on her back and a mysterious old envelope.

Apparently they weren't going to the doctor.

And then it hit Harriet all at once. This, the Dursley's were abandoning her. She was homeless. That's what this meant. _Don't come back._ That was the message, here.

Tears began to gather in her eyes, and Harriet was astounded to learn that, somehow, after everything, this hurt. It hurt a lot.

Harriet sniffled, and for lack of a better option, started walking.

* * *

It was full dark by the time Harriet reached the city. By the time she remembered the envelope in her hand, the sun had set and it was too dark to read it. At least it wasn't too cold. Harriet might have been a lot worse off if Aunt Petunia had abandoned her during the winter.

Making heat was one of the easiest unnatural things Harriet could do, but she couldn't do it while she was asleep.

Harriet found a well-lit plaza where she could sit down and read whatever was in the envelope. Taking a deep breath and hoping ferverently that it would be something helpful, Harriet broke the old wax seal and peeked inside.

Two folded pieces of paper, and a key.

Okay. Harriet pulled out the first paper and opened it. It was a letter, addressed to someone called Madam Agatha Harkness. She was about to put it back when her eyes snagged on her own name in the text. And the signature. It was signed, Lily Potter.

Harriet's mum wrote this! Harriet went back to the top and read from the beginning with new intensity.

* * *

 _Madam Agatha Harkness_

 _Agatha, if you are reading this, then my husband and I owe you an apology._

 _When you told us of the prophecy, we knew immediately that it was about our daughter. Yes, James and I have a little girl. Her name is Harriet, and she is all that matters to us now. At the time, I had only just learned I was pregnant, and I am sorry we hid her from you. James and I agreed it was safer if we told no one._

 _I'm sure you also have had suspicions that somebody in the coven is talking to Riddle's group behind our backs. You yourself told us that Riddle knows about the prophecy. We couldn't risk Harriet becoming a target._

 _But, should the worst happen, I've put contingencies in place, and this is one of them, should James and I both perish. Enclosed with this letter is a claimant writ and a key to a safe deposit box in Wembley, which is where I've placed Harriet's birth certificate and other documents. More importantly, it is where I've hidden the Word of Drogyn. If the responsibility should fall to Harriet, please, make sure she is ready for it._

 _Lily Potter_

* * *

Harriet fumbled for the other paper, confirmed it was an official-looking bank document, and memorized the listed address. The other stuff... the other stuff could wait.

Mostly because Harriet had no idea what to make of it. A prophecy? A coven? Were her parents in a cult or something? Just about the only thing she did understand, was that her parents had loved her. It sounded like they'd gone to great lengths to protect Harriet from whoever this Riddle bloke was supposed to be.

And... they _hadn't_ dumped her on the Dursleys. It sounded like... it sounded like this Agatha Harkness person was supposed to see to that stuff, and the only reason she hadn't was because this letter had never been delivered.

Hope burst into being inside Harriet's chest. Maybe, just maybe, she did have somewhere to go.

But, to start with, she had to figure out how to get to Wembley. Harriet wasn't even completely sure where that was. She needed a map, or at least directions.

* * *

As it was, she found both. A kindly old lady at a library Harriet came across told her all about the best way to get to Wembley by rail or by bus, when Harriet asked about maps.

The old lady even offered Harriet money for the ride, but Harriet couldn't bring herself to accept. Harriet thanked her sincerely, said goodbye, and walked back out into the summer evening.

It wasn't hard to find the bus stop the old lady told her about.

Harriet hung back, hands in her pockets, trying to look inconspicuous. She peered at the massive red vehicle until she could make out its destination. She had to be sure she had the right bus. Harriet waited while a small crowd came out of the bus, and waited some more while a different small crowd got on board.

Her breathing slowed. Her mind sharpened.

The bus made several loud noises as it pulled away from the curb. Harriet waited, and then, just as it was passing her, she whirled and burst into motion, ducking behind the bus where nobody could see her.

Harriet had always been light on her feet, even when she wasn't being unnatural about it. When she _was_ being unnatural, catching up to a slow-moving bus was barely an effort. Her leap carried her up and over a stoplight. The air rushed over her limbs, and she could see, in her mind's eye, how if it flowed over her like _this_ instead of _that_ , the air would slip over her body much more smoothly and keep her on course. The roof of the bus rushed up at her, and she could see how she needed exactly _this_ much energy applied _this_ way to her body to match speed.

Harriet touched down on the roof of the bus as lightly as a feather. She dropped flat, and settled in to wait as the bus trundled along.

She glanced guiltily to both sides to make sure no one saw her, half-expecting a Dursley to pop up out of nowhere and scream at her for using her freakish abilities again and her mother being a devil's whore. But, the Dursleys had disowned her. They'd never yell at her about anything ever again. She could be as unnatural as she wanted to be. There was no one to tell her she shouldn't.

Slowly, Harriet grinned.

* * *

The bus arrived in Wembley.

Still high on her newfound sense of freedom, Harriet let the wind peel her off the roof of the bus like a kite. When gravity tried to spoil her fun, she once more applied energy to her own body to counter it.

Harriet stalled forty feet above the dark suburban street, hanging still in the air at the apex of her swoop. And she stayed there. And stayed there. She held it for almost twenty seconds before she realized what she was doing.

It wasn't one of those eternal moments. It wasn't a precarious balancing act that would come crashing down as soon as she breathed wrong.

Harriet was hovering forty feet off the ground over Wembley. She was perfectly stable and completely in control.

Because of course. Of _course_ she could fly. She wasn't even doing anything now, _to_ fly, that she hadn't done before. She had already had everything she needed. It was just that, before, she simply hadn't _dared_. Being freakishly good at running was one thing, but she'd never dared be unnatural in any but the smallest of ways. She'd never let herself think about really _trying things_. But now, there was nothing holding her back. Harriet threw her head back and screamed in triumphant joy, her smile stretching so wide it hurt.

Then she opened her eyes and noticed the bright, jade green glow haloing her body. Harriet squeaked, startled, and dove frantically for the ground before anyone saw her.

That... _that_ had never happened before! Thankfully, it only lasted a couple of seconds after she made it to the ground.

No explanation for the glowing presented itself. Harriet emerged from her impromptu hiding spot and set off to get her bearings.

* * *

(I know soccer isn't called soccer in the UK, you don't have to tell me. But 'football' is ambiguous, so I am calling it soccer. Consider it a translation convention, like how I deliberately stuck with the english name-ordering for the characters in Japan since I wasn't actually writing lines in anything but english.)


	2. Harriet Potter and the Seed of Wonder(2)

(As you may have guessed, Hogwarts does not exist in this universe.

Harriet's eleventh birthday went unremarked and she was later sent to a crappy highschool by the Dursleys under the same conditions she attended primary school.

The sorcerer's stone also doesn't exist, but you could probably guess that from the title. If you read the Buffy comics. Or wikis. Or, you know, stuff.)

* * *

 **Harriet Potter and the Seed of Wonder  
** **(Part 2)**

By the time Harriet found the bank, it was closed.

Sighing, she found a nearby bench and curled up to try to sleep. It was getting chilly, but there still wasn't any weather. Harriet was glad all over again about that. The bench was hard and uncomfortable, but it was being out in the open that really made it impossible to sleep.

After a while, Harriet traded the bench for the shadow beneath the seat. It was dirty, but it felt safer, and her hoodie was big enough for her to scrunch up inside it and keep her hair clean.

With a sigh, Harriet finally let her eyes close.

* * *

Harriet woke to the sound of voices and the light of early morning. She was cold and stiff, but the jolt of fear had her ready to roll out from under the bench and run in an instant.

Then she remembered she'd fallen asleep in a public place, and calmed down. No reason there wouldn't be people walking around. She could see three pairs of feet on the sidewalk. The only problem was, they were coming right towards her.

"Um, excuse me? Are you alright?" a girl's tentative voice asked.

For a moment, Harriet didn't move, but then she rolled out from under the bench, stood up, and dusted herself off with as much of a casual air as she could muster.

Three girls, the first two in matching blue and silver soccer getups, the third in an expensive skirt and blouse. The one who'd spoken wrung her hands as she looked at Harriet with open concern. She had a round, gentle face with soft asian features and short black hair streaked blue. The strap of a duffel bag cut between her breasts, pressing the fabric of her jersey tight over the mounds that dominated her chest.

For some reason, Harriet's mouth had gone dry. She swallowed and stuttered, "Yeah, er, yeah. Fine. Why?"

The well-dressed girl snickered, and the other soccer player, a fairer and more slightly built girl with freckles, frowned at her.

"Um, well," the gorgeous asian girl began. "Were you out here all night?"

Harriet shrugged, like it didn't matter, and ducked her head, hoping to hide the heat on her cheeks in the shadow of her hood. "Er, yeah."

The girl shared a look with her friends. Harriet peeked through her hair to watch them, wary. This was the part where sympathy and decency lost the battle against peer pressure, they wrote Harriet off as worthless, and Harriet could get on with her day -

The gorgeous asian girl in a soccer jersey waved off her well-dressed friend, took a step forward, and actually introduced herself. "Well, um, I'm Cho. These are Marietta and Mandy." She looked at Harriet expectantly.

Harriet blinked. "Er, my name's Harriet."

Cho smiled. "Nice to meet you, Harriet." She waved towards Mandy. "We're going down to the field for our morning practice. Do you want to join us? We've, um, got snacks."

This was so surreal. No one ever wanted Harriet's company. Except, apparently, this girl she just met. Wow. Okay.

"Er, yeah," Harriet said, smiling shyly. "That'd be brilliant."

Cho smiled at her some more. Harriet smiled back.

"C'mon then," Mandy said, cutting between Harriet and Cho. "Let's go. So hey, do you play, Harriet?"

Harriet shook herself a little, and followed when they started walking. Was... was she actually making friends? It seemed like that might be what was happening, and Harriet was a little in awe. It didn't seem real.

"Er, no, but I know the rules?" Harriet offered.

"That's alright," Cho told her lightly. "Marietta doesn't play at all."

"I've got better things to do than kick balls at you," Marietta said.

"She quit because she got hit in the face with the ball once," Mandy revealed in a stage-whisper, "and had to go around with a plaster on her nose for a month."

"Shut your face!" Marietta cried, tripping and almost falling as she tried to clamp a hand over Mandy's mouth.

Harriet ducked her head to hide her grin, but Cho actually giggled out loud. There went that first impression. Marietta had seemed all cool and aloof, but after that it seemed like she was actually kind of spastic and easily flustered.

"It's okay..." Harriet tried to say.

"Hmph," Marietta cut her off, arms folded and face red. "Like I care what some vagabond thinks."

Cho gasped. "Mari!"

"Oh no," Harriet deadpanned. "I might tell _all_ the rats and crickets. How will you ever bear the shame."

Harriet wasn't really expecting laughs - usually when her mouth got away from her she got glares and anger - but she wasn't prepared for the awkward uncomfortable looks on Cho's and Mandy's faces. Harriet blushed and shut up.

They continued in silence for a long moment.

"So," Marietta said, with forced casualness. "Why _were_ you sleeping under a bench?"

Harriet hesitated, but, why the hell not? She was completely free to tell the truth. "My fam - I mean, my relatives, they threw me out, and they don't want me back."

Cho gasped softly and looked at her with wide eyes. "They just abandoned you? How could they do that?"

"Yeah," Marietta added. "What'd you do?"

Harriet returned Marietta's flat look. "Does it matter?"

"So you _did_ do something!"

Mandy smacked Marietta's arm. "Mari! Cut it out." She turned to Harriet. "People can't just abandon their children! That's illegal!"

"I guess," Harriet said neutrally. "I mean, I'm not theirs, and I never was, so I dunno if it counts."

"Didn't you tell the bobbies? They'd know. You should tell the bobbies!"

"I, er, reckon... I could... do that," Harriet mumbled. She much preferred to just be shot of the Dursleys entirely. Besides, baring her heart to some callous, disinterested, disapproving police man, who'd probably just haul her straight back to the Dursleys without listening to her, was not something she wanted to waste any time on.

Mercifully, that was when they arrived at the field. There were bleachers, and lines on grass, and goals made from metal pipe. Harriet spotted a small brickhouse bathroom at one end of the field and excused herself.

When she came back, Marietta was in the bleachers with a book while Cho and Mandy were using their knees to bounce a ball back and forth between them.

Cho smiled at her, and managed to keep bouncing the ball even without looking.

"Wow," Harriet said. "You're good at that."

"Want to try?" Cho asked.

Harriet tried. It was about as difficult as it looked.

Cho and Mandy took turns playing goalie, while Harriet ran around and passed the ball to the other girl from odd angles. Harriet got the hang of it quickly enough to extract several proud smiles from Cho, which Harriet had to admit was the best part of the whole experience.

After a little while, Harriet started to warm up enough that she was sweating in her hoodie. Cho and Mandy followed her to the bleachers, deciding this was as good a time as any to break for snacks.

Harriet made sure the precious envelope was still secure, and proceeded to unzip. She had a threadbare tanktop in faded dark grey on underneath, spotted with oil stains. It had been a cast off garage rag belonging to one of the neighbors before it had belonged to her, but it was so soft and actually fit her, so it was one of her favorites.

Behind her, two girls gasped.

Harriet twitched around, wary, but only saw Cho and Mandy both staring at _her_. Harriet glanced down at herself self-consciously. Her arms, her shoulders, and the bits of torso that her shirt didn't cover, were all marbled with bruises.

"Oh, that," Harriet sighed.

"What _happened_?" Mandy exclaimed.

Harriet shrugged. She just wanted to move on. She didn't want to make a big deal. "My cousin and his friends, then I fell in the shower, then my aunt pulled me down the stairs. May I have one of those?" Harriet pointed at an apple.

Marietta did double-take from her higher perch. " _Pulled_ you?"

Cho handed Harriet an apple, gazing closely at her with glistening eyes full of pity. Harriet usually hated it when people looked at her like that, but this time she was too distracted. Cho was so _beautiful_ this close up.

"I'm okay, really," Harriet said, her first impulse to comfort her new friend. "It looks bad, but honestly I'd forgotten all about it until just now. It doesn't hurt much."

"Doesn't hurt much?" Mandy replied, gently, but with obvious disbelief. "You look like you got beat up by an entire rugby league."

"You've clearly never seen a rugby league beat somebody up," Harriet joked awkwardly.

Cho reached out, as though to touch one of the bruises on Harriet's shoulder, but faltered before she made contact. "We... we can't keep practicing. We need to take you to the _hospital_."

"No no, no really, this is nothing new," Harriet deflected, feeling a pang of dishonesty because the one thing _was_ new, but they were only talking about the bruises, so. "I always heal up fine on my own."

"Well, um, at least come to my house for lunch?" Cho tried, fidgeting anxiously. "They say you need good meals every day, when you're healing."

"I am sort of hungry," Harriet admitted, "but I'm used to going without food on weekends. It's not a big deal."

Cho looked like she might actually start crying. "Please?"

"Er... okay? If you're sure I won't be imposing," Harriet said, subdued.

Cho shook her head, and a relieved smile appeared on her face. It took Harriet until well after she'd finished her apple to convince Cho that she and her friends didn't need to drop their morning plans to look after Harriet. None of them could stop staring at Harriet's bruises even after she convinced them to keep playing, though.

Harriet glanced at her folded hoodie. She still needed to get to that bank and see what was there. New friends or not, she needed to know what she had to work with. The revelation that her parents hadn't simply abandoned her was still sinking in, and it was a very strange idea to her that she might have _resources_.

And soccer had somewhat lost its appeal, with the awkward atmosphere.

Cho wouldn't let her leave without written directions to the Chang household - apparently her last name was Chang - and a solemn promise to turn up there by noon.

Harriet couldn't help but agree. She felt so drawn to the other girl. She found herself weirdly okay with owing Cho favors.

But it still bothered her, the way Cho and Mandy and even Marietta were looking at like she was a... a wounded kitten or something. As she walked off the field, Harriet suddenly imagined shooting into the air and flying away right in front of the three girls. Harriet cringed. For all she knew, if Cho found out Harriet was so unnatural, this new friendship could end as quickly as it began.

Harriet walked the rest of the way to the bank. It wasn't fair! She knew, in her mind, that not everyone was like the Dursleys, but in her heart she expected every last person on the streets of Wembley to scream at her and call her freak and devil-spawn if she _did_ anything where they could see. Even fly. Even though flying was the coolest thing ever.

Now that she knew she could do it, she almost felt like her feet wanted to leave the ground without her. It was like she was denying herself with every step she took. Planes weren't natural either. Why was it okay for planes to fly but not her? Harriet shook herself out of her thoughts, and went into the bank.

* * *

A will. Her parents had left a will.

Harriet didn't have the first clue what to do with the last testament itself. It talked about events she'd never heard of, things she didn't recognize, and people she didn't know. The real treasure was the beneficiaries' contact information, which she found attached at the back.

Several of the people listed shared an address, including whoever this Agatha Harkness was. An address. In some town called Westbury.

Harriet had a place to go. She actually had somewhere to go.

* * *

The object rested on Harriet's palm, as she sat, ensconced and out of sight on the roof of the building which contained the bank. An arcane symbol carved in jade and backed by dark-colored metal. It was heavy, and weirdly warm.

It could only be the Word of Drogyn her mum mentioned in the letter, even if Harriet couldn't seem to find any words on the thing. It looked like some kind of expensive but useless knicknack, but her mum had made it sound like it was not only very important, but Harriet's responsibility, whatever that meant.

Harriet shoved the Word deep into her jeans pocket and pulled out the list of directions Cho had written for her.

For a moment, Harriet considered dropping off the roof and walking. Then she looked up. She never stood a chance. Temptation won. It won _hard_.

It still took her a moment, to put the mental pieces together, and hold them there, but it wasn't even difficult. With a grin so wide it hurt, Harriet rose from the roof and accelerated smoothly into the sky. Someone was probably going to see her, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

* * *

Harriet plunged head-first towards the Chang's porch like meteor. At the last second, she flipped over and screamed to a stop, touching down on the welcome mat on one tip-toe so softly she barely made a sound. Her clothes and hair floated around her like she was underwater.

Letting go with her mind, Harriet set her feet down firmly as her hair and clothes collapsed down against her body. Her face was flushed, her windswept hair was an absolute mess, and she was grinning so hard she was amazed her lip hadn't split.

Harriet turned and looked up into the sky behind her. She could still see the tiny trough her body had carved through one of those clouds, if she squinted.

A few moments later, she caught her reflection in the window and blanched. She attacked her hair furiously with her fingers, in a desperate attempt to smooth it down to at least the point that it stopped reminding her of that story she read about non-elucidian eldritch horrors.

Finally, she went to ring the doorbell. Nervousness crept in around the edges of her leftover exhilaration, but that grin was still on her face when Cho opened the door.

"Hi," Harriet chirped.

Cho looked surprised, but she didn't ask. "Hi. Come in?"

Harriet went in.

Cho's house was bigger than the Dursley's. It was clean and neat, but it felt more real somehow. The building was older. It looked like somewhere people actually lived, with actual color in the decor, and the sort of light wear that came from not having a slave running around doing repairs and cleaning every day.

"Do you like pulled chicken and broccoli?" Cho asked. "I forgot to ask, earlier."

The scent coming from further inside was certainly mouth-watering enough. "Sure. It, er, smells great."

Cho smiled. "Oh. Good." She led the way into the kitchen. "Mum? This is Harriet."

Mrs. Chang was more or less an older version of her daughter. Harriet was as polite as possible, but the pity in the woman's eyes was harder to bear. Cho had already told her mother everything from that morning, so there was no downplaying it.

Harriet spent considerably longer washing her hands than she actually needed to spend, before she came out and joined Cho and her mother at the table.

And then Harriet took a bite, and forgot all about her discomfort. An absolutely _lewd_ moan escaped her before she could stop it. It had been _months_ since she'd had anything like a cooked meal from anywhere except her highschool cafeteria, and she'd _forgotten_ food could taste this good.

Harriet took another bite and tried to pretend like she hadn't just made such an embarrassing noise, but Cho was looking at her and _blushing_.

"Er, this is really good, Mrs. Chang," Harriet said politely, as she hid behind her hair.

"Thank you, Harriet," Mrs. Chang said placidly.

Harriet didn't say much for the rest of the meal. Cho and her mother chatted about their mornings, and Harriet just sat there savoring her lunch.

Then, the food was gone, and the interrogation started. Mrs. Chang stayed polite, and she was far more subtle than the Dursleys ever were, but Harriet felt like she was back in school, listening to one of the office staff explain to Harriet how they just wanted to help her even though what they were really doing was trying to trick Harriet into saying something incriminating, twisting every word she let slip against her.

Cho, at least, looked worried and just a little aghast at her mother's behavior.

Harriet thought about the sky. She was about five seconds from slamming her chair back and literally flying out of the house, when Mrs. Chang's next question caught her completely off guard.

"Very well," Mrs. Chang said in much warmer tone. She sat back and smiled kindly. "Would you like to stay the night, Harriet?"

"Er, what?"

"We have a spare room upstairs," Mrs. Chang told her blithely. "Cho, why don't you show your new friend where it is?"

"Um..." Cho began uncertainly.

Harriet was very confused, and more than a little suspicious. But, she reasoned, she had to sleep somewhere, and if Mrs. Chang was going to have her taken away or something, Harriet could always escape. She was good at that. And there was the way Cho was looking at her with shy hope.

"Er, sure Mrs. Chang," Harriet said, pasting a polite smile on her face. "Thank you very much for having me."

* * *

Harriet was used to long hours where she had nothing to do but stare at the ceiling of her cupboard. Hanging out with Cho was so much nicer. They watched a documentary about the failure of the amphibious car on the telly, Cho showed her a photo album full of pictures of Cho's inter-highschool soccer games, and Harriet admitted to not having a favorite band.

That night, Cho let Harriet borrow some pajamas, and said goodnight. Once the door was closed and Harriet was alone, she looked at the bed and didn't move. She'd never actually slept in a _bed_ before.

It was almost _too_ comfortable. A couple of times, Harriet was sure the floor moved, startling her awake just as she was about to doze off, but once she actually fell asleep, she slept like a rock.

And she dreamed about Cho.

* * *

"Cho, dear, I want you to stay inside the house today, okay?" Mrs. Chang announced at breakfast the next morning. She lowered her newspaper and gave Cho and Harriet both stern looks.

"Oh, um, alright Mum," Cho said. "What's wrong?"

Mrs. Chang held the newspaper out at Cho. "Bank robbers! And in our own little neighborhood. It was yesterday, and they got away scot free. They could be anywhere."

Harriet froze. She slid out of her chair and moved around to look over Cho's shoulder. And there on the front page was a picture of a police cordon around the same bank Harriet had just been at.

"It says three assailants somehow breached the vault," Cho murmured. "But they didn't take anything. A safe deposit box was destroyed, but the manager claims it was empty. No hostages. No guns. They think they used bombs, but small ones, so the bank is in trouble for having a non-regulation vault, because they shouldn't have been able to get in that way."

"I was just there," Harriet whispered. She was suddenly very aware of the Word of Drogyn in her jeans pocket. This... couldn't have been about her... could it? "Strange."

It was important. Her parent's letter said. But it had to be a coincidence. Except it wasn't a normal bank robbery at all, and it happened the very next day after Harriet took everything out of her parent's safe deposit box.

Harriet felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up. It was entirely possible that they were after _her_ , now.

* * *

(No Hogwarts means no Hagrid. Sorry Hagrid fans. Maybe I'll figure out how to give him a cameo somewhere.

And if you were worried about it, I can assure you this will not be a Harry/Cho fic. A crush is not a relationship. If you've read _Forever After Earth_ , you already know this, so congratz, you get to be ahead of the curve.)


	3. Harriet Potter and the Seed of Wonder(3)

**Harriet Potter and the Seed of Wonder  
** **(Part 3)**

"Do you want a shower, Harriet?" Cho asked, after Mrs. Chang had left for work. "I can put your things in the wash for you, meanwhile."

Harriet wrenched away from the increasingly paranoid direction her thoughts were going, and focused on Cho. She was kind of worried about not being able to flee at a moments notice, if her suspicions turned out to be true, but she did kind of need a shower.

"Er, sure, thanks."

Cho followed her to the bathroom, and showed her where the shampoo and the towels and stuff were. It was more than Harriet usually made do with.

"Go on and give me your clothes, then," Cho suggested, blushing faintly.

Harriet glanced again at the bathroom's fixtures. The shower had glass doors, rather than an opaque curtain, and it didn't look like Cho was going to step out into the hall on her own. Harriet didn't want to tell her to get out; she was being so nice. But it was hard to make herself strip naked in front of the much prettier girl, being underfed and bony and covered in bruises, when Cho was so luscious and beautiful.

Blushing, Harriet handed Cho her jeans and turned away to pull her shirt off. Her knickers went last. The things were faded and too small and were dotted with little holes where the fabric had worn through. Harriet glanced back long enough to stuff them into the pile in Cho's arms rather than lay them out on top for her to see.

Cho _still_ didn't leave. "Oh, um, there's something in your pocket here."

Harriet winced. She was so distracted that she forgot about the Word of Drogyn. Cho fished it out of the pocket in question.

"Ooh, this is pretty," Cho said softly, running her thumb over the jade. She looked up and Harriet tried somewhat futilely to hide her nudity in her own hair. "You're also very pretty, Harriet. Especially when you're so hurt and shy like this. I'll have you all to myself because I'll nurse you back to health and you won't know any better."

Harriet blinked. That was a peculiar and slightly unnerving thing to say. A moment later, Cho seemed to reach the same thought as her eyes went wide in alarm and confusion. She eep'd and dropped the Word of Drogyn like it was on fire, and fled from the bathroom in a rush.

"Take your time! Enjoy!" Cho called back, a bit shrill, as the door clicked shut behind her.

Harriet picked up the talisman, nonplussed, and went to turn on the shower. While the water warmed, she studied the Word of Drogyn suspiciously. It had really seemed like... touching it had made Cho say something she hadn't meant to say. It didn't seem to be giving Harriet any strange urges to say things, though.

"Er." Harriet glanced up at her reflection, naked except for her glasses. "I forgot I was wearing my glasses." Wait. That wasn't what she meant to say. Maybe... "My name has never been Rose." Hah! She'd _tried_ to say her name _was_ Rose.

Harriet tried to say several more untrue things, and several true things. When she tried to lie, she found herself telling the truth instead. Touching the Word of Drogyn made it impossible to lie.

"Brilliant," Harriet opined, grinning a little, and dared to comment out loud on Cho. "What she said made me feel weird _because_ I want her to nurse me back to health. With her actual breasts. Naked. I want to suck on her erk."

Harriet cut herself off, blushing crimson, and gently set the Word of Drogyn down on the countertop. It was kind of obvious in retrospect, but one could hardly blame her for not noticing that she had a crush on Cho. She hadn't even thought she fancied girls! It wasn't like she'd ever had much of a chance to find out.

She stepped into the shower, and it wasn't until she already had two fingers up inside herself that she even thought about Piers and Malcom. She hadn't had an orgasm since before they violated her, and she shivered a bit as the pleasure turned sour when she remembered.

"It's not about them," Harriet muttered to herself, working her fingers faster, harder. "Not about them. This is not about them. They _don't matter anymore_."

Cho. It was because of Cho. Because of the revelation of her crush on the other girl, of thinking thoughts about things girls could do together that she'd never really imagined before.

Release. Rapture. Relief.

* * *

Wrapped in a towel, Harriet palmed the Word of Drogyn and stepped out into the hall. She wanted to keep it with her, but she didn't want to wave it in Cho's face.

"Cho?" she called, tentative.

There was a rustle and a thump, and Cho emerged from her own room. She smiled like nothing strange had happened and ushered Harriet in to sit at the end of her bed. It was odd and sort of exciting to sit there with Cho in nothing but a towel, now. Especially since Cho had changed into a pair of revealing little shorts.

"Your clothes will be done soon," Cho said, blinking at Harriet's head. "Um, do you want to use my brush?"

"Er, sure, thanks," Harriet said sheepishly. Her hair was currently in its worst phase where it was wet enough to clump but not wet enough to sag under its own weight more than normal.

"I could," Cho began shyly, brush in hand, "If you want I could brush your hair for you. I don't mind."

"Brave of you," Harriet deadpanned.

Cho let out a little strangled giggle. "Is that a yes?"

Harriet's lips quirked wryly. "Go ahead."

"Okay." Cho got up on the bed and sat herself directly behind Harriet.

Harriet sucked in a silent gasp when Cho's bare legs settled along the outsides of her own, the warmth of Cho's body around her hips. The sensation sank all the way through her bones and wrapped around her core like liquid fire. Suddenly, every inch of her body that _wasn't_ touching Cho ached like endless winter. It was _very_ hard to resist the urge to squirm all over the other girl in an absolutely _obscene_ manner.

"I've never seen anyone with hair like yours before," Cho said. "It's very, um, itself."

Harriet giggled. It was a bit jittery. "Yeah."

Cho started brushing. Harriet tried to hold still. It would be embarrassing if her hair devoured Cho's brush. That was a real danger. Once, Harriet had even needed to resort to scissors to rescue this one plastic hairbrush when the handle snapped off.

It felt so good having Cho's body pressed up to her like this, fingers and bristles stroking through her hair. Harriet was really starting to worry she might do something embarrassing. She was dying to know how Cho felt about all this touching, and a means of finding out was in her hand, tempting her.

"Erm, this is nice," Harriet admitted softly. And moved her hand just enough that the edge of the Word of Drogyn touched Cho's thigh.

"Yeah," Cho agreed. "I'm so glad I was right about you being too shy to ask to borrow something to wear."

Apparently _truthful_ did not mean _unambiguous_. "Er, what?"

Cho tensed, and the hairbrush halted. "Eeep! I, I mean, I, um, I wanted you naked in my room but I couldn't say so!" Cho gasped and clapped her hands over her mouth.

Harriet choked, flushing hotly. That was followed by a tinge of guilt. She felt terrible about embarrassing Cho like this, but she _had_ to ask one more thing at least.

"Why?" Harriet asked. "Er, and why are you doing this, any of this, for me? I'm no one."

Cho made a tiny piteous sound.

Harriet's insides twisted in guilt, but, "...Cho? Please?"

"That's why," Cho said in a small voice. "You looked so pathetic. Like you had nothing. I want to be someone's whole world, and you, I want you to have nothing except me, so I can keep you."

"Oh." Harriet didn't know if that was romantic or if it was creepy. Either way, she discreetly slid the Word of Drogyn under her towel, between her own thighs, where it wouldn't touch Cho.

Behind her, Harriet heard sniffles. Harriet turned sharply, and sure enough, Cho's eyes were wide and full of tears. Harriet blanched, reaching up in fits and starts until she finally settled on taking Cho's face in her own hands. Cho tried to look away, but in a fit of daring Harriet didn't let her.

"This is all wrong," Cho whispered, sounding lost.

"Nobody's ever wanted me before," Harriet told her, utterly sincere.

Cho's breath caught with a flicker of hope, but her eyes dropped. "I'm horrible."

Harriet flapped a hand at herself, at her healing bruises. "The boys who did this to me, _they_ were horrible. You're not, Cho. You're beautiful."

Cho's cheeks were wet, and her face was so close, Harriet felt the delicate puff of breath from Cho's soft sigh. Harriet was already more or less in her lap, half-turned sideways from her previous position. Cho's lips suddenly dominated Harriet's awareness, inches from her own.

Cho moved first. The warm softness of her lips pressed onto Harriet's mouth, as vivid as a hot brand. Harriet's mind went blank, her body shuddered. She turned, opening to the kiss and pulling Cho tight against her.

Harriet gasped as Cho pulled back, breathing hard. Harriet couldn't look away, not even when Cho slowly reached for the knot in her towel and pulled it loose. Harriet shivered in excitement as her body was laid bare, but before she could figure out what to do next, Cho kissed her again, and bore her down to the bed.

The other girl's breasts swung forward inside her thin cotton top, and it suddenly struck Harriet again just how much bigger they were than her own. She ached to feel those things in her hands, or against her face as she lavished them with kisses.

Harriet reached for the strap of Cho's top, but Cho caught her hand and stopped her. She looked at Cho, confused, since Harriet was already completely exposed, but Cho just giggled nervously.

"Oh, this would be so naughty if you were a boy," Cho said with a watery smile. "I'm so glad we can do this and it doesn't really count since we're both girls."

Harriet was more than a little dubious about Cho's reasoning, but it isn't like Harriet had any idea what it meant for it to 'count' or not.

"I'm glad we can do this, too," Harriet said, truthfully. "Can... may I... see your breasts?"

Cho sort of _reacted_ to the question, but she didn't answer it. And then they were kissing again, and Harriet contented herself with exploring Cho's back. She didn't dare to try going under Cho's clothes again, even if it was really hard to resist.

* * *

The long and wonderful session of snogging was finally interrupted by the buzz and chime of the dryer finishing downstairs. It startled them both a bit.

Cho kissed Harriet's lips one more time and said, "I'll go get your clothes."

"Thanks," Harriet managed, sprawled out blissfully.

There was a niggling sense of disquiet, though, as Cho left the room. A feeling of dissatisfaction, and a vague anxiety. Cho still wore as much as when they started. Which wasn't much, really, but she still hadn't let Harriet touch her anywhere... important. Cho had certainly touched Harriet in most of those places at one time or another, but every time Harriet tried to feel the most interesting parts of Cho's body, Cho only _almost_ let her.

The superficial bliss eroded quickly, leaving Harriet tense and a little queasy. Her flushed skin ached from Cho's absence, and her chest tightened every time she remembered Cho pushing her away. Her hands. Pushing her hands away, or dodging her.

The Word of Drogyn was still a hard lump under her back. "It felt good, but it was torment."

Harriet stopped, fished the Word of Drogyn out from under her, and glared down at it. It _felt_ true when she said it, but that made no sense at all.

After a moment, she sighed, and sat up. After another moment, Cho returned with Harriet's clothes, and Harriet got dressed, slipping the Word of Drogyn into her pocket. Cho's eyes widened when she caught a glimpse of it, but she immediately flinched away and refused to look at it again. Harriet decided not to mention it.

"So, er, what do you need to do today?" Harriet asked awkwardly.

* * *

That night, Harriet crawled into the too-comfortable guest bed and couldn't fall asleep. Her chest felt tight and hot, and her gut just wouldn't stop churning.

The rest of the day had been uneventful. Cho had chores, which Harriet helped with. They watched the telly, then Mrs. Chang came home and asked Harriet more subtle probing questions.

During the chores, Harriet had tried to kiss Cho again, but Cho hadn't responded. She'd just smiled and dodged Harriet's lips with a giggle, leaving Harriet confused and a little hurt. It set the tone for the rest of the day. Harriet didn't want to upset her new friend, though, so she bore it and never asked for more than Cho gave.

 _You're pretty when you hurt._

And yet, it ate at her that she didn't understand what she was doing wrong. Or if she even did anything wrong.

 _You're pathetic._

As best Harriet could figure, there was something important she simply didn't understand about affection between friends. It wasn't like she'd ever had a friend before, kissing or no.

 _I want you to have nothing._

Harriet rolled over and frowned at the darkness of the room, as Cho's words of compelled truth floated across her mind. She'd just _accepted_ that Cho didn't want anything good for her except Cho herself. Of course she had. Cho was her friend, and Harriet had always known that standing by her friends would be important, that it was right to forgive the flaws of people she cared about.

Harriet's knuckles turned white as her fingers clenched around the Word of Drogyn, and she opened her mouth to say, _I love her._

"I'm using her."

A tiny gasp broke free from Harriet's chest, and she felt her eyes prickle with the beginnings of tears. At the same time, something deep inside her chest just _relaxed_ all at once.

"It hurts, being with her," Harriet whispered to herself, letting the Word of Drogyn drag the truth out of her. "I like what we did, but I don't like the way she makes me feel. It's a relief that this isn't what love is."

Harriet shut her eyes to squeeze out the building moisture and let out a long sigh. Suddenly she was very tired - which was actually convenient since she was supposed to be sleeping.

Rolling over, she burrowed deeper into the luxurious covers, and sniffled. She felt sort of hollowed out, but oddly, she also felt _free_. Cho was her friend, but enforced truth put that in perspective. Other things were more important.

* * *

"Are you sure you have to go?" Cho asked sadly the following morning. "I thought you'd come to soccer practice with us today."

Harriet shook her head. "Sorry, Cho. I have to follow the lead my parents left for me. I really appreciate you letting me stay with you, though."

"Oh," Cho sighed, dejected. "Alright."

Harriet's heart wrenched, but she'd made up her mind. "Thank your mum for me, too. I'll call, alright? I have your number." Harriet patted her pocket.

Cho nodded, and Harriet opened the door to step outside. But, a moment later, she frowned.

"Wait. How're you going to get there?" Cho asked.

Harriet turned and walked backwards into the morning sunlight with a smirk on her face. Putting the pieces of unnaturalness together in her mind, Harriet rose from the paving stones and floated out over the street.

Cho spun around and fled back inside. "I don't know and I don't want to know! Bye!" The door slammed shut.

Nonplussed at Cho's reaction, Harriet eventually shrugged, whirled, and launched herself into the great blue void.

She turned west flew higher and higher until all of Wiltshire stretched out below her, with the Bristol Channel in the distance. Westbury was somewhere over there, south of the Cotswolds, Harriet remembered.

It was a fair distance, but when Harriet flew, she flew _fast_.

* * *

Finding the town was easy, but it wasn't until hours later that Harriet finally found the right address.

It was hard to miss, once she was sure she was in the right area off the northeast edge of the town. The grounds were huge, bordered by a road to the south and a lush forest to the north.

At the top of a wide grassy hill, a stately manor house stretched between two colorful meadows. It was the sort of mansion that looked eternal, like it had always been there, and it always would be. Vines sprawled up between pillars of dark brickwork, and greyish tan stone peeked out between the leaves. High, arched windows with beautiful stained or frosted glass glinted in the sunlight as Harriet flew over.

It was beautiful, and it made Harriet shy a bit. Surely she wasn't meant to live anywhere so grand. As Harriet drifted down to the cobblestone drive in front of the house, she pulled out the documents and double checked that she was in the right place.

Harriet refolded and stuffed the papers back into her pocket. With a nervous tremble, Harriet walked up to the front door and rang the bell.

For long seconds, Harriet waited. Her hands were shaking.

With the thunk of a heavy latch, the door finally swung open. The cute brunette girl that appeared didn't look much older than Harriet herself.

"Yes?" the girl asked curiously.

"Er, hi? I'm Harriet Potter. I'm... I'm looking for, for someone who knew my parents?"

The girl looked uncertain. "Uh..."

"Does," Harriet croaked. She swallowed and tried again. "Does an Agatha Harkness live here? I have a letter for her."

The girl's face turned serious, and she nodded. "Oh, uh, yes. Madam Harkness is actually here now. Do you want me to ask if she'll see you?"

Harriet nodded. It was a bit shaky. "Thank you."

The girl stepped back, pushing the door wider, and waited expectantly. It took Harriet a moment to realize she was being let in. Inside, it was oak paneling and rich rugs in a spacious entry hall. There was a staircase on both sides, a chandelier overhead. Straight ahead, another pair of doors stood open, revealing a sitting room.

"Sorry, what was your name again? I'm Katie." She offered her hand, smiling.

Harriet took it and shook. "Harriet. Potter."

"I'll just be a minute," Katie said. "Go ahead and have a seat in there, okay?"

Harriet nodded. Katie jogged up the leftward stairs. Harriet went into the sitting room and sat down on one of the plush sofas. She fidgeted, her body as stiff as a board. She didn't even know what she hoped would happen, once she handed over the letter.

The sound of voices came from the entry hall, and Harriet peered out.

"...can't be true, Alice. She would've told us," a tall woman in a billowing black peasant gown was saying to a younger woman, this one round-faced with very short hair and dressed in jeans.

The younger one, presumably Alice, replied, "Then we shouldn't leave a stranger alone in here longer than we have..." She trailed off, stopping in her tracks when she caught sight of Harriet.

"Oof!" The taller woman collided with Alice.

As soon as they recovered from the collision, _both_ of them looked at Harriet like she was a ghost.

"Er, h-hi?" Harriet stuttered out.

"You look just like her," the taller woman whispered.

"If you don't count the hair," Alice added numbly.

Harriet touched her wild black locks self-consciously, but before she could say anything, another woman swept down the stairs into the entry hall. She was mature, white-haired, with a lined face, but she moved with a grace and strength and her brilliant blue eyes had an almost physical weight to them when her gaze fell on Harriet. The old woman touched the first two gently, and they both started and leaped out of the way.

Harriet would have been afraid, but the old woman exuded good cheer as she approached Harriet.

"Hello, young miss," she said warmly. "I, am Agatha Harkness. I'm told you have a letter for me."

Harriet blinked and nodded. She dug the letter out of her pocket and unfolded it. Harkness took it and settled into a seat across from Harriet.

Before she started on the letter, Harkness glanced over at the doorway. "Well, go on, introduce yourselves to the young lady."

As the wizened matriarch read the letter, the other two finally came in and gave Harriet sheepish smiles.

"Sorry. Hi there. My name's Alice. Alice Longbottom. Call me Alice. This is Emmeline Vance. I call her Emmy, and I promise she won't frown at you if you call her that too."

"Harriet Potter," Harriet said, giggling slightly. Again. She didn't think she'd used her own name this much in the last _year_. It was a little disconcerting.

"Lovely to meet you," Emmeline said softly, shaking her head. "You really do look just like Lily..."

Harriet perked up. "You knew my mum?"

"Of course we did," Alice told her. "She was my best friend. Our best friend. We loved her like a sister since we were kids."

Harriet stared at the two women in a new light. Maybe this was going to be okay after all. Her mum's best friends.

"I don't understand why she wouldn't tell us about you, though," Emmeline said, sadly.

"I believe our Lily had good reason," Harkness broke in, as she set the letter down. "Harriet," she said gently. "Do you have it with you?"

With a slow, nervous nod, Harriet pulled out the Word of Drogyn and displayed it on her open palm. Agatha Harkness didn't reach for it, but with a small gesture the talisman floated up from Harriet's hand and hung in the air in front of the old woman.

Harriet gasped softly at seeing an unnatural display that wasn't her own doing.

"Is that what I think it is?" Alice asked.

"Indeed," Agatha Harkness replied, running a finger along the jade edge. "Forged in the seal of the Deeper Well and infused with the blood of the Battlebrand. Entrusted to Ignotus Peverell and passed down through the generations until it came into the hand of James Potter, the last of his line, who brought it to us. To touch it is to speak only truth, for it is the Word of Drogyn, and it wields the power of his name."

It floated back to Harriet. She caught it, wide-eyed.

"Never let it out of your sight, Harriet."

Harriet nodded, but she was still confused. About several things. "Excuse me, but, why is this thing so important? What's it for?"

"That, I'm afraid, is a pair of rather long stories," Agatha Harkness told her kindly. "Better told, perhaps, after you've settled in?"

"Settled in?" Harriet repeated hopefully.

"Ooh, please say you'll stay for a while," Alice agreed cheerfully. "I don't know how much you know about your mum. We've got _so_ very much to catch up on."

Emmeline nodded along. "We can unseal Lily's old room for you. We left it be as a memorial after Lily died, but I know she would've loved nothing more than for you to have it."

"Your mother was beloved, and not just by these two," Agatha Harkness said, amused. "You will always have a place with us, Harriet. A place in our house as the daughter of a dear friend, and, should you desire, a place in our coven as a student of witchcraft."

Harriet was halfway through a grin and a vigorous nod when she stopped cold. The Dursley's hate. A coven. Her unnatural abilities. _Witchcraft_. Her mum. One word, and suddenly it all made sense.

"I'm a _witch_?!"

* * *

(It's a bit more complicated than that, Harriet. Don't fret.

So, poor Cho. I hope my portrayal of her wasn't unfair. Shallow and not particularly self-aware, like a normal teenager, but she means well. My favorite part of writing this chapter was giggling over how Harriet doesn't even think about holding the Word herself. She'd pretty much only need to put it down to be sarcastic, wouldn't she. Very honest-at-heart, I like to interpret Harry(s) as.)


End file.
